On the morrow, he came back in high glee.
"Your wife and all the rest salute you, and she sends you the book."
"God be thanked!"
My good gaoler offered to take care of my Bible for me, and asked me to make him acquainted with its contents. No one can imagine how I enjoyed the first time I read it to him; and he continually contrived opportunities for availing himself of my instructions. I spoke to him one day of the gaoler at Philippi, and how he was called by God, and taught by the holy apostles. Another time I read to him the parable of the Prodigal Son which touched him so much, that he would read it again himself.
"Oh, what a noble book is this Bible!" he exclaimed; "but do the priests believe that it contains the word of God?"
"They say they believe it," I replied, "but their actions contradict their assertion; in fact, they neither read it themselves nor let others read it."
"I understand why—this book does not approve all that they say. If we were to read it attentively, could we afterwards believe in their childish stories?"
Whenever I expounded the Scriptures to him, he seemed as if he could not look at the pure doctrines of Christianity, without confronting them with the corrupt practices of popery.
One time he did not visit me as usual, but another came in his place.